Loki's First April Fool's Day
by CreativeReading
Summary: Loki celebrates his favorite new holiday, but his wife, Darcy, disapproves of his antics.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**- I own nothing from Marvel.

Thank you to **Tashio** for the suggestion!

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**Ch. 1 **

**Volstagg**

When Volstagg first awoke on the first day of April, he was pleasantly surprised to smell sausage cooking and fresh bread baking. He smiled as he rolled over and saw that the rest of the bed was empty, that his dear wife had already gotten up and was busily making him breakfast. He knew it was his morning to cook, so it made the gesture that much sweeter. He was about to sit up in bed when he heard a chorus of "Papa, Papa". Before he knew it, he felt the soft thud of the first child to launch himself into his waiting arms. The youngest one, Birgir, was not yet three and he was so proud he had won the race to his father's embrace.

He managed to hold three of them, squirming in his arms as they breathlessly informed him of the various misdeeds of their siblings. The fourth one, Aldís, was eleven and she just stood at the side of the bed, arms crossed, rolling her eyes at the complaints of her younger brothers and sister. One had stolen a doll from another, another wouldn't share a ball and the third had knocked over a tower of wooden blocks that had been built. Volstagg tried to listen seriously to their concerns instead of just grinning at their adorable, earnest faces.

After meting out justice to all the offenders and trying to settle all their disputes as fairly as possible, he gently disentangled himself and sent the lot of them off to wash up for breakfast as he got changed himself. His stomach growled as the smell of his wife's cooking intensified and he couldn't wait to eat.

As he entered the kitchen, he saw his wife, Dalla, standing over the stove. He came up behind her and encircled her waist, planting a rough kiss on her soft cheek. "And how is the fairest wife in all the Nine Realms doing this fine morning?" he murmured sweetly into her ear.

"Good, my love. Just a bit tired," she replied as she stirred the porridge.

"There are ways to perk you up," he countered saucily as his hands began to wander a bit.

"Oh, no," she giggled as she swatted his hands away. "That's how we ended up with four children."

"Five," he reminded her as he patted her rounded belly before stepping back a bit. "How can I help you?"

She turned and kissed him soundly, running her fingers impishly through his beard. "That is the best question any man can ask his wife. Can you have the children set the table?"

"As you command, my dear," he said heartily as he rounded up his brood and set them to their various tasks. The youngest helped with placing napkins at each place settings, while the others prepared the rest of the place settings. Soon, breakfast was ready as they quickly helped their mother bring the food to the table.

Volstagg's mouth watered as the children passed the food around. There were sausages, freshly baked bread and butter as well as porridge sweetened with berries and cream. He recalled all the mornings that he was away from home, fighting on various worlds to preserve the peace for Asgard, eating hardened stale biscuits and dried meats and missing his home so much that he ached. It wasn't just the food he missed; it was the sense of family and love. He and his wife had waited centuries to start a family, relishing their time together as a couple. Now, though, that they had started a family, he couldn't believe that they had waited so long to fill their home with such joyful noise. He couldn't help but grin as the little ones dug into their breakfasts and were strangely quiet.

As he lifted the first forkful, he gave his wife a wink. He took a bite and reared back his head. There was something wrong. Something tasted off. He grabbed a cup of water and washed the bite down, certain he had just bitten into a burnt piece of the sausage. He lifted another forkful of meat to his mouth and cautiously sniffed it, and once again, the heavenly aroma filled his nostrils. But, as he bit down once again, the repellent taste filled his mouth, reminiscent of ash and soot.

He looked around the table and saw the rest of his family happily chewing on their food. He glanced at his wife who shot him a confused look. He smiled wanly and decided to eat some bread. It was possible that his sausage was bad and he didn't want to mention it to his wife, especially after all the hard work she had gone to prepare his meal. Unfortunately the bread tasted the same as the sausage and his attempts at eating the porridge were similarly thwarted.

Every single bite tasted the same.

Ash.

Soot.

Volstagg began to panic as he now knew it was he who had the problem and not the food. The rest of the family was cheerfully munching away. He ran through the possibilities quickly in his mind. He could go to the healers to see what ailed him.

But then, he looked around at his family.

Since today was a day of rest, he had promised his wife that he would take all four children to a lovely garden at the far side of town for the day. They had all packed lunches for it and were excited to play amid the flowers and meadows. His wife was looking forward to having lunch with a friend of hers and to enjoying a rare day without the children. He couldn't bear to disappoint her. He'd put off seeing the healers until tomorrow. He was sure he'd feel better tomorrow morning.

He stood to clear his plate. His wife's look of concern deepened to shock. "Volstagg, are you quite alright?"

"Oh, yes, my dear," he lied quickly. "I just ate so much at dinner that I've not got much of an appetite this morning. I'll get the dishes started and when I've done, the children and I will be on our way."

"Thank you. You are the best husband ever."

"That's what I tell everyone else. No one believes me," he said jovially as he began to clear the plates.

As he packaged up the leftovers, he let out a small whimper. He was so disappointed that he had missed out on one of Dalla's beautiful breakfasts.

He didn't notice a cackle of glee from a darkened corner.

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**Author's Note**- Next up, the rest of the Warriors Three!


	2. Chapter 2

**Ch.2 **

**Hogun "The Grim"**

When Hogun got up on April first, he felt a bit strange. At first, he couldn't place what was wrong. He thought he was merely over-tired from training the day before. He had just returned from visiting his family on Vanaheim the week before and he had spent the last few days on Asgard training with the palace guards. Now that Thor was on the throne, he needed Sif and the Warriors Three to take over many of the duties that he had once seen to as the crown prince.

Hogun was loyal to Asgard, but he was more than a little uneasy with the way the current kingdom was being run. Thor handled all the domestic affairs, which were vast in a realm such as Asgard, while Loki was in charge of all "foreign" diplomatic matters. It wasn't that Loki wasn't skilled as a negotiator. It wasn't that Loki didn't have a firm grasp on how to masterfully manipulate others so that Asgard fared well in all of the various treaties and trade agreements. It was that Hogun just didn't trust him.

Despite being sent to Midgard to do penance for all of his crimes, Hogun felt that Loki got off far too easily. In Hogun's eyes, he should have been executed for his war crimes or, at the very least, he should have been sentenced to life imprisonment. Instead, Loki fell in love with a Midgardian woman, said he was truly sorry for his heinous misdeeds and, apparently, all was forgiven. After being imprisoned for less than a year on Midgard, he was welcomed back to Asgard with open arms with his new bride. It rankled Hogun to have to bow to that villainous traitor.

While he got along well enough with Loki's new wife, Darcy, Hogun couldn't stand to be anywhere near Loki. He had told Loki, on his return to Asgard, what an utter failure and disappointment he was and that he wanted nothing more to do with him.

Hogun rubbed his hand over his face as it began to ache. Something indeed was strange, odd. He got out of bed, slowly stretched, and went to the mirror mounted on his wall. He shrank back with horror at what he saw.

He was smiling.

It wasn't a normal smile, but a maniacal grin, his teeth bared like a rabid dog.

He couldn't stop it, couldn't force his facial muscles to contract and turn back to their natural frown. He tried and tried, but he couldn't alter his appearance. He began to panic as he massaged his face, the pain beginning to grow and intensify.

_I should visit the healers_, he thought._ It might be some sort of illness from another realm, some type of facial paralysis brought on by a virus or an infection._ He hated the thought of someone seeing him like this, but he couldn't let it go on much longer.

As Hogun stared into the mirror, debating a trip to the healers, he didn't notice the slight ripple of air in a side corner, didn't hear a low-pitched snicker of delight.

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**Author's Note**- Next up, Fandral "The Dashing"


	3. Chapter 3

**Ch. 3 **

**Fandral "The Dashing"**

Fandral woke up on the first day of April to an uncharacteristically empty bed. He blearily opened his eyes with only a vague memory of being at a tavern the night before and engaging in a rather foolhardy drinking contest with some of the off-duty palace guards. The fuzzy state of his head as well as the wretchedness of his stomach attested to the fact that he was most likely not the victor of the match.

Waking up to an empty bed was not a new experience for Fandral, however, it was a rare one. He prided himself on being able to woo even the most unlikely of ladies into his arms and his legacy of seduction was well-known.

In fact, the only recent blemish on his near perfect record of conquest was Loki's new bride, Darcy. When he came down to Midgard to help free Thor from his banishment, he had the opportunity to meet the enchanting woman, although their time together had been unforgivably short and amounted to little more than a few brief kisses. He had admittedly allowed himself to become more than a little transfixed by her, although, in honesty, perhaps more because she represented the proverbial "one that got away".

When Thor returned to Midgard to retrieve his brother, Fandral had to admit that he pestered him more than once for news about the fair Darcy. But, since Thor didn't even have the chance to visit his own lady love, Jane Foster, on that trip, he was unable to help Fandral. Months passed and Fandral found distraction in the arms of one lady after another.

And then, Loki returned from his punishment on Midgard.

With a new bride.

Darcy.

At first, Fandral consciously decided to distance himself from the pair. He was never one to poach on a committed woman; even his honor would not allow him to destroy a marriage just to slake his lust. Unfortunately, the new princess seemed to be everywhere. At every royal function, every event, there she was with her radiant smile and flashing blue eyes. He slowly became obsessed with her, hoping that she would succumb to his wiles. He did his best to catch her alone, compliment her, use every trick and manipulation he had learned over the centuries.

And none of it worked.

Nearly two months ago, when he had cornered her once again, she had given him such a stern rebuke that he abandoned all hope. She threatened to inform the former queen of his predatory actions. There was no one on Asgard that Fandral feared more than Frigga, for while Odin had been a powerful leader, Frigga would utterly destroy anyone who threatened her family.

So, Fandral backed off, completely giving up his pursuit of Darcy for several weeks. He focused on charming as many other women as possible and he found the task ridiculously easy. Boring, in fact. Within a few weeks, his mind began to wander once again to her soft skin and full lips. The fact that she was carrying Loki's child did nothing to abate his fascination with her.

He was aware that all of his recent bedfellows resembled her, petite with long dark hair and generous curves. He was sure that it did not escape the notice of Loki who simply contented himself with staring daggers at Fandral whenever they met.

Fandral shook his pounding head to clear thoughts of the lovely princess. He staggered out of bed, berating himself for entering such a foolish contest. He was glad that today was a day of rest and he wouldn't be required to train with the palace guards. He quickly bathed and changed, feeling better with each passing second.

Before leaving his room, he took one last look in the mirror and, he had to admit, despite the previous night's excesses, he did look quite dashing. He combed his hair and made sure that every strand was in the right place. Before he left, he gave himself a confident wink in the mirror.

As Fandral left his room in the palace, he ambled down to the palace kitchens. Normally, he lived in a small house in a nearby village, but since he and his friends began training the guards, he had been encouraged to relocate temporarily to the palace. Only Volstagg remained behind, not willing to give up his time with his family.

Living at the palace did have its benefits. More than one fair lady had been coaxed into his bedroom on the pretense of giving them a "tour" of the palace. And, there were plenty of saucy maidservants who worked there who were delightful to tease and banter with.

Mealtime was Fandral's favorite part of the day. He'd go down to the palace kitchens and flirt with the various women on the staff. Inveritably, one or two of them would have set aside a special tray just for him, full of delectable morsels fit for a king.

As Fandral walked down the long corridors to the kitchens, he saw Hogun rush past him, going the opposite direction, a crazed grin on his face. Instinctually, Fandral drew back. "Are you quite alright?" he called after him as he jogged past, but Hogun didn't break his stride or falter at the Fandral's question. After a moment, Fandral simply shrugged his shoulders, assuming that his friend would rather not confide in him.

As Fandral neared the kitchens, the aroma of baking bread made his mouth water and his alcohol-induced sickness seemed to completely abate. He flung open the doors, as was his usual custom, to greet the cooks and servants that were working inside.

Normally, he would make the rounds, dropping compliments and winks around to each and every lady in the room. He had learned long ago that every woman had a particular kind of beauty and the trick was seeing it with the right eyes. So, usually, one he would praise the glowing blush of her cheeks, another the intricate way her hair had been arranged, still another how lovely her eyes looked when she wore that particular shade of green. He never lied, instead he found a way to be generous and complimentary without being false.

However, this morning, as he began to bellow out his customary, "Good morning, ladies," something else came out instead.

He croaked like a frog.

His hand immediately flew to his throat. Perhaps the effects of the previous night's debauchery had caught up with him. He cleared his throat and tried again.

Once again, he croaked like a frog.

By that time, the women had ceased their work to turn and stare at him and a few had begun to giggle and titter softly. Fandral cleared his throat one more time and tried to speak.

And, for a third time, he croaked like a frog.

The giggling had transformed into hearty laughter. Fandral swallowed, unused to being the object of ridicule. He turned and flew out the door and down the corridor. Maybe he needed to see the healers.

"Good morning, Fandral," one of the guards said as he passed.

"Good morning," Fandral replied automatically and then reared his head back in surprise. His voice worked perfectly fine.

"Are you alright, sir?" the guard asked with a worried look on his face.

"Yes, yes. I suppose I am." It was odd that he could speak with Hogun and the guard, but not to the women in the kitchens, but he decided he must be over whatever malady that had plagued him.

"Good morning, Lady Sif," the guard said as she walked past. She nodded and smiled at the guard.

Fandral smiled and caught up with her, wanting to ask her a question about the division of training for the upcoming week.

But, when he tried to speak with her, nothing came out but a croak.

"Are you ill, Fandral?" Sif asked, concern tingeing her voice.

Fandral was unable to form any words and simply shrugged.

"You should see the healers. I saw Hogun earlier and he did not seem well at all."

Fandral nodded, giving Sif a quick wave good-bye as he turned and walked in the direction of the healing rooms.

He never heard the soft menacing laughter from around a corner.

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**Author's Note**- Next up, Odin!


	4. Chapter 4

**Ch. 4 - Odin**

Odin almost didn't wake up on the first of April. He had been putting off Odinsleep for too long again and, as retribution, he found he slept longer than usual during the night, waking up nearly at midday instead of dawn. He knew he should just succumb, give in to the weariness that seeped into every muscle of his body, but he resisted. He wanted just a few more days, just a couple more weeks to make sure that the kingdom had settled.

He knew it was a risk, splitting the duties of the kingdom between his two sons, but in all honesty he knew of no other way. Thor had matured more in the past three years than he had in the previous thousand, but there were still areas where he needed to grow. His directness, while reassuring to his subjects, was devastating during any type of negotiations or bargaining. While he was less war-mongering than before, Thor still was too quick to anger, too candid in his opinions.

Despite all of Loki's many faults, he was skilled in manipulating people, getting them to do his bidding. The trick was to have him use his abilities to benefit, rather than harm, Asgard. In the past few months, Loki had been to almost every one of the Nine Realms as well as some of the outer regions and he consistently returned with favorable treaties and trade agreements. He knew how to defuse volatile situations and sway people to his way of thinking.

And Odin had to admit, his Midgardian bride had been an asset, too. She was sharp-witted (as well as sharp-tongued) and was a keen observer. She learned about the interplay of politics on Midgard and had been able to use that knowledge in assisting Loki with his duties. They formed a wonderful team and Odin felt pride in his younger son, even if he didn't show it as often as he should.

Odin's relationship with Loki had been uneasy at best. Frigga had always been closer to the boy, understood him better. Odin loved Loki, but often didn't know how to relate to him. And, with the whole debacle of the last few years, their relationship had been strained past the breaking point. Although the Jotuns had pressured him to execute Loki, Odin couldn't bear to do it, despite the enormity of Loki's heinous crimes. Instead, he sent him to Midgard, banished much like his brother had been, to help rebuild what he had destroyed. And, like Thor, Loki had found redemption in the arms of a Midgardian woman, the fair Darcy.

However, Loki was still Loki. He was still mischievous, often causing more problems than he solved. He was still surly with Odin, resentful of any reminder of his past misdeeds. There was such a prickliness to his demeanor that Odin wondered if it would become a permanent part of his personality. They butted heads so often that Odin sometimes despaired of ever repairing their relationship.

Odin took a deep breath and slowly sat up in bed, feeling the utter exhaustion of every year weigh on his frame. He knew it was late and he had meetings to attend to. Frigga had most likely left hours earlier as she was to attend the opening of a new school in a nearby village today. Odin swung his legs around and slowly stood. He had wisely scheduled his meeting with some visiting dignitaries for later in the day, mindful of his need for sleep. He still had a few hours to bathe and prepare himself for their visit.

Once he'd bathed and dressed, Odin went to the mirror to comb his hair. He abhorred having servants fuss over him, so he usually took care of himself with Frigga occasionally helping with choosing the appropriate garments for more formal occasions. He adjusted the leather breeches and the heavy leather and metal tunic and looked expectantly in the glass to arrange his hair, delighted that everything soon looked in order.

He decided to walk down to the kitchens for a late morning meal. He and Frigga often dined with their sons and their wives, but the morning and midday meals were a bit more haphazard depending on everyone's schedule. Odin often preferred a light meal scavenged from the kitchens rather than a grand formal affair.

As he walked, he noticed the guards that were posted throughout the corridors were staring at him. He was not unused to attention; he was, after all, the former king of the realm, but there was something about their surprised glances that unnerved Odin. He wondered if there was something amiss in his appearance. He stopped for a moment and looked down, making sure that all the leather buckles were fastened appropriately and that all the metal buttons were secured. Having assured himself that nothing was amiss, he shrugged, certain that it was nothing.

Once he reached the kitchens, he opened the doors to the massive room, ready to feast on some type of hearty meal, perhaps some boar or pheasant. He expected the usual chorus of greetings that occurred whenever he visited his favorite cooks. Instead, one by one, the various chefs stared at him with wide-eyed shock.

Their silence unnerved him. "Good day. I'd like some boar with bread and perhaps some stew."

The stunned crowd just stood there, mouths gaping open.

Finally, one of the most senior cooks, gave him a tentative smile. "Yes, your Majesty. But, perhaps, you might find some clothes first?" She gulped as she said it, fear in her eyes.

"Clothes? But, I am wearing clothes."

"No, your Majesty, you are most surely not." A few of the younger maids began to giggle.

Odin looked down at himself and saw his typical outfit. He was most definitely wearing clothes.

But, from the cooks' expressions, they obviously didn't see any.

Odin's mind raced. What kind of sorcery was this? Who would stoop so low as to attack his dignity in such a way?

He began to rub his temples in attempt to stave off the on-coming headache.

Loki.

Of course.

He gave the cooks an apologetic smile. "It seems as though there is an enchantment upon me. Please have a tray made up and sent to my rooms and have a servant seek out my wife and have her return to the palace immediately."

He turned and left, stalking back to his room, finally understanding the furtive glances from the guards.

Loki was going to regret this.

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**Author's Note**- Next up, it's Thor's turn to get pranked!


	5. Chapter 5

**Ch. 5**

**Thor**

Thor woke up on the first of April and he felt, almost instantaneously, that something was wrong. He looked over at Jane, snoring softly next to him, oblivious to the world. He got up gently so as not to rouse her. She had spent most of the night at the healer's rooms, looking over the soulforge.

Her fascination with the scientific advancements of Asgard was the overriding passion of her life. She had a thirst for knowledge that was almost unquenchable. She would spend days holed up in the library or experimenting in a makeshift laboratory to try to understand the workings of Asgardian technology. She often visited Heimdall to grill him on the Bifrost or what he could suss out about the advancements on different realms.

He wished, sometimes, that her devotion to affairs of the state was as profound. However, he understood that not all queens took to rule as readily as others. He was glad of Jane's close friendship with Darcy as the sisters-in-law were nearly inseparable. Darcy, whether because of her studies of Midgardian political systems or just her innate abilities, seemed at ease around the heads of state from different realms, where Jane seemed hesitant, unsure of herself. However, Jane was learning more and more about the political systems of Asgard and the Nine Realms and Thor was sure that it would become second nature in time.

Thor stood up and surveyed the room, trying to suss out the cause of his unease. Something was out of place or perhaps something was missing.

Missing. That was it.

He had placed Mjolnir near the bed before turning in the night before, but as he frantically searched the room, he could find it nowhere. After a few minutes of rifling through the room as quietly as he could, Jane's head popped up from her pillow.

"Thor, what's the matter?"

"Mjolnir. It's gone." Thor's tone was grave as he looked under the bed.

"Gone. How can it be gone? I thought you were the only one who could move it."

Thor shook his head. "I should be. One must be worthy to lift it. The only one in this realm would be father."

Jane sat up in bed and slowly rose, yawning as she did. It was evident that she had hardly slept the night before and Thor felt guilty for having woken her.

"So," she said, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "could your dad have taken it?"

"I do not know what would possess him to do such a thing."

"Has he ever taken it before?" Jane asked as she shrugged on a light robe.

"Once. When I was banished to Earth." Thor had begun to refer to Midgard by Jane's chosen term, noticing it put her at ease to do so.

"But he was mad at you then. He's not angry at you now, is he?"

Thor searched his mind replaying the events from the past few days. Ever since Odin had ceded the throne to Thor, he had done his best to live up to his father's example. Since he had little skill at foreign diplomacy, Odin gave Thor's adoptive brother, Loki, the position of external envoy. In practical terms, Thor dealt with all the internal problems on Asgard, while Loki dealt with relations with the other eight realms. The system worked fairly well and played to the brothers' strengths. Thor was known to be straight-forward and fair, while Loki had an incredible knack for negotiating with even the most difficult of foreign officials.

Thor could find no glaring problem or crisis in the recent past that would cause his father to grow angry with him or with the way that he ran the realm. There had been a dispute about water rights in one region of the realm, but Thor felt he had settled it equitably among all parties. There was also a contentious debate about the tariffs placed on certain types of grains, but again, Thor was sure that he had reached an agreement that was fair to all concerned. "I do not believe so, Jane. But, I am perplexed. If Father is the only one in this realm that could have taken Mjolnir and he has no reason to do so, where could it be?"

Thor was so anxious and concerned that he didn't hear a low chuckle from a nearby doorway.

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**Author's Note**- Next up, Darcy has a little talk with Loki about his shenanigans.


	6. Chapter 6

**Ch. 6 **

**Darcy and Loki**

Being pregnant was never easy.

Being pregnant with a baby whose father was from another realm really wasn't easy.

Being pregnant on an alien planet far from your family? Now, that was a real challenge.

It didn't help that Darcy had a rough first trimester. The first few weeks were fine. Then the morning sickness (which really should be renamed "all-day misery") hit. She spent most of January running to the restroom, barely keeping anything down. Even the usually cheerful healers had been concerned.

The worst incident had happened when they were having a small, intimate dinner with Odin, Frigga, Thor, and Jane. Darcy ended up next to Odin, for some reason. Then, halfway through dinner, she had emptied the contents of her stomach onto Odin's lap. Odin looked horrified as servants rushed to clean him up. Darcy fled the room, completely mortified. Loki burst out laughing. At Frigga's exasperated glare, Loki was forced to confess their secret, that Darcy was expecting.

Thor, Jane, Frigga and even Odin had exploded into a chorus of congratulations and hugs. Loki had been quite taken aback. Loki had expected everyone to be pleased, but it would be no exaggeration to say that they were overjoyed.

Frigga sent the healers to Darcy and Loki's bedchambers to examine Darcy. Once they returned, they declared both Darcy and the baby to be of sound health, but Darcy's embarrassment prevented her from rejoining the group.

Darcy spent the next few meals holed up in their room until she finally ventured out. She met Jane in the corridor on the way to the informal dining room.

"I'm so happy for you. For both of you," Jane said, enveloping Darcy in a tight hug. It had taken Jane months to warm up to her brother-in-law, so it meant a lot to Darcy to hear her say that.

"I can't believe I pulled a George Bush on Odin of all people," Darcy confessed.

"George Bush?" Jane asked quizzically.

"Yeah. The dad, not the son. Threw up on the lap of the premier of Japan. Didn't you study anything other than science in college?"

"Sorry, Miss Poly Sci. I must have missed the day we went over vomiting presidents in class," Jane said dryly.

"Your loss. Best lecture of college," Darcy said with a straight face.

"Can I just say I am so glad you're here with me? I couldn't handle Asgard by myself," Jane said, giving her another fierce hug.

"You and me both, sister," Darcy said, returning the hug. "You and me both."

00000

A few months later, on the first of April, Darcy was waiting at the healing rooms for her regularly scheduled prenatal appointment. Everything was progressing nicely, even though there was still some uncertainty about what was considered normal for a half-human, half-Jotun baby. Darcy had felt a bit guilty that her parents still didn't know about the baby, but it wasn't like there was an easy way to let them know. She supposed she could send some type of message with the Bifrost, but it was the kind of news she really wanted to deliver face to face.

All of a sudden, Hogun rushed into the healing rooms, a crazed smile on his face. "I can't stop. I can't stop smiling. The pain! The pain!" he shouted.

The healers dutifully rushed over to him and began to guide him to the soulforge for examination. Darcy didn't mind waiting as Hogun seemed to be in genuine distress. Five minutes later, Fandral burst in, in a similar state of upset. He didn't say anything to the head healer, instead rushing to a male assistant. "I am under some type of enchantment. I am unable to communicate with the fairer sex. It all comes out as a hideous croak."

Darcy stifled a giggle. She had to admit, she could think of no better enchantment to put on Asgard's resident Lothario.

"This is most vexing. It seems as though we are under some type of mystical attack. All of Odin's clothes now become transparent when they touch his body. And Thor cannot find Mjolnir anywhere. I can't imagine who would do such horrid things," the male assistant informed Fandral.

Darcy felt her stomach sink. She knew exactly who would do it. But why today of all days?

She stopped one of the healers rushing by. "Hi, do you know what day it would be on Midgard?"

The healer looked at her thoughtfully. "Let me see. It would be the end of . . . March. No, no, I'm sorry. The first day of April."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Can you please let the head healer know I'll be back later? I need to have a conversation with my husband."

00000

"Loki, what the hell did you do?"

Loki winced to hear his wife bellow as she entered their room. He had spent the morning watching his various tricks manifest via an enchanted mirror. It had been the first time in years that he had indulged his mischievous side so thoroughly and he had been amused to no end. Ever since Darcy had mentioned the Midgardian custom of April Fool's Day, Loki planned out all the various tricks and enchantments.

"Loki!" Darcy said when she saw him in front of the mirror.

"Hello, my dear," Loki said smoothly. "How did everything go at the healer's?"

"They were too busy to see me. It seems some colossal jerk put half the palace under enchantment."

"It was hardly half the palace. The Warriors Three, Odin, and Thor."

"I heard about the others, but what about Volstagg?" Darcy asked.

Everything he eats tastes like ash and soot," Loki smirked.

"That is so incredibly gross." Darcy curled her lip in disgust.

"No, you misunderstand. AsH and sOOt."

"Oh . . . well, that's a bit better. But, still, hon, what possessed you to do it? People are still getting over the whole invading Earth thing."

"I just wanted a bit of fun," Loki said petulantly.

"Yes, fun for you, but agony for everyone else. Pulling pranks like this is hardly going to make you any friends."

"I have no need for friends," Loki said disdainfully.

"Well, I do," Darcy snapped. "I want our kids to play with Volstagg's kids. I want to be able to hang out Jane without her being upset that you snatched Myeuh-muh."

"I didn't steal Mjolnir. I just made it invisible," Loki countered.

Darcy gave Loki a stern look. "Undo it all. Now."

Loki huffed. "Very well," he said and, with a wave of his hand, all the enchantments were undone. "Are you quite satisfied, my dear?"

"Yes. Thank you. Now, tell me, why didn't you prank Sif, Jane, or your mom?"

"I cut off Sif's hair once, centuries ago. She actually used to be a blonde. Thor was so enraged. He made me go to the dwarf realm to get her a replacement," he recounted.

"Wait, so that's a wig?"

"Well, it grafted to her scalp. Unfortunately, it wasn't blond. She's never forgiven me," he admitted.

"Never mess with a woman's hair."

"So, I've learned," he said ruefully. "I didn't prank Jane because it would have been cruel. I'm well aware that she's having a hard time adjusting to Asgard."

"And Thor would have beat you down."

"And Thor would have thrashed me," Loki confessed.

"And your mom?"

Loki shuddered. "My mother is far more skilled in magic than I. I wouldn't want to try her patience."

"And me?"

Loki smiled down at his wife, taking her in his arms. "Never prank someone who can get to you while you sleep."

"Wise words."

He leaned down and kissed his wife, tracing the curve of her collarbone with his lips. "I know," he breathed into her ear, a cocky grin on his face.

00000

Later on that day, once everything had gotten back to normal, Darcy went back to the healing rooms. Loki accompanied her as today was the day they would found out the baby's gender. The head healer performed all the usual tests and then used the soulforge to determine whether they were having a boy or a girl.

"Let's see. You will be having a . . . boy."

Darcy beamed, imagining a little Loki running around.

"Thank you. Thank you very much," Loki said to the healer, his enthusiasm evident for all to see.

"Loki," Darcy said tentatively as she rose from the table and approached her husband. "We need to go back to Earth. I haven't seen my folks since Christmas. They don't even know I'm pregnant. Easter's in a few weeks. Maybe we could surprise them."

Loki thought for a moment and then nodded. "By all means, my dear. I'll arrange it with Thor so that my diplomatic duties will be covered."

"I love you," Darcy said,wrapping her arms around him.

"I love you, too," he said as he hugged her, realizing, in a blinding moment of clarity, that he held his family in his arms and that he had never felt more complete.

* * *

**Author's Notes-**

I hoped you liked this little story. Let me know if you'd like to read **"Loki's First Easter".**

If haven't read my other Loki/Darcy stories in this series, the first one is called **"Lima Syndrome".**

Also, if you like Avengers and romance, my absolute passion at the moment is **"The Captain's Bride".**

**Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews!**


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